The Fire Man Sees
by apeth
Summary: When Sirius is released from prison, it's a 13-year-old Harry in foster care who tracks him down first. AU, non-magic story.


Chapter One

* * *

The television flashed the blue and white colors of the 7 o'clock news. Harry watched it over the top of the kitchen counter as he put away the dinner dishes. He did not know why felt compelled to watch the news on this particular Thursday; Mrs. Wright was even less likely to miss the evening news than miss her afternoon sherry.

The newswoman was interviewing a man who was standing outside a courthouse in Devon. He wore a suit and spoke in a very low voice, despite a microphone being held in front of him and the presence of a wall of sound from the press behind him. Harry didn't bother to strain to hear him, and turned back to the cupboards. But a moment later, he glanced at the telly again, and this time he felt a strange feeling crawl into his stomach. For a long moment he stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen with a dishcloth in his hand, his eyes glued to the telly, as a result of what he saw there.

The television showed a man with dark, shoulder-length hair and a well-defined face being escorted out of the courthouse. People crowded around him with flashing cameras as he was helped into a nondescript car by his escorts. The footage was so quick that Harry had to conclude that his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rested his elbow on the kitchen counter and rubbed his forehead with his other hand. _You're imagining things again_, he told himself. _Remember last week, when you met that women with the eyes just like yours and you were convinced for days that she was some long lost relative?_

But the news station played the footage back, this time in slow motion, with the cameras focused in on the man's face. The image was of a horrible quality, but Harry was able to see those grey eyes, the shape of his jaw. The resemblance was uncanny. And after all, if there was anyone to fully appreciate the resemblance, it was Harry. Harry alone had spent time bordering on hours with the photo album in his hands. He had spent ages staring at that particular photograph, reveling in the joy on his mother's face as she stood next to his beaming father. He had stared at the man standing above his father's shoulder, a smile on the strong face. He had flipped forward in the book and seen the same man sitting down and with a baby Harry in his arms, a pleased smile on his face. He had wondered all night who the man was and where he was now.

The headline at the bottom of the television screen read, "Black Pardoned." Harry tried the name out in his mouth. It sparked no recognition, but then, Harry wondered, why should it? He had only ever had the picture, nothing else to go on. Harry felt hope burst in his chest. Suddenly very alert, he moved away from the counter, dropped what he was holding, and started toward the stairs. He was overcome with the desire to look through the album once more. Perhaps he had missed something. At worst, he would be able to see if the man in the picture really did match the man on the telly, and if his memory could be trusted.

Mrs. Wright must have heard his footsteps over the sound of the television, because she twisted her neck away from the couch and gave him a narrow-eyed look. "You can't possibly be done," she said.

Harry grasped for an excuse. Mrs. Wright didn't fall for most anything, so he had to be careful. "I think I left the phone off-hook upstairs," he said. "I'll be right back down."

Mrs. Wright grunted her assent, and Harry slipped out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He reminded himself to be quick as his heart thumped. Though he wasn't a bad kid, Mrs. Wright didn't trust him.

The album was in a box underneath his bed. He pulled it out and opened it gingerly. Then he flipped quickly and automatically to the photograph of his parents' wedding day. And there the man was, though more freshly groomed than on the television. Harry was sure it was him. It was all in the shape and color of his eyes, the construction of his face. He did not look like every man, but unique and very handsome.

He flipped to the picture of the man and himself as a baby and stared at for an even longer time. Feeling impatient, he removed it from the album, which was difficult, as it stuck to the album's plastic pages. When he had finally pried it loose, he flipped it over in his hands. His heart jumped when he saw the thin, faint writing on the back of it. He leaned forward and squinted to read it. "Harry and his godfather," he read, his lips moving slowly and silently.

For a long moment, Harry dazedly pondered the newly found knowledge that he had a godfather, and that the man who had just been released from prison might possibly be him. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he held his mother's or his father's handwriting in his hands. When his mind had returned somewhat, he flipped back to the wedding photograph and removed it from its backing just as carefully as he had the other photo. Then he flipped it over, his heart beating rather fast.

The same faint writing was on the back on this photograph, with the slight difference that it was written in black ink instead of blue. It read, "From left to right: Sirius, James, Lily, Mrs. Potter." Harry decided that his grandmother was beautiful, and that the writing was likely not from the hands of one of his parents. Otherwise, they wouldn't have written their own names.

So the man's name was Sirius. Harry placed the album back in the box with the loose pictures in the inside cover and pushed it back underneath his bed before returning to the kitchen. Mrs. Wright was still sitting in front of the telly, but she had since switched the channel. As Harry went to finish putting away the dishes, he asked loudly over the television, "What's the name of that man who was pardoned today?"

Mrs. Wright, it appeared, was deeply engaged with a car insurance commercial and did not answer straight away. "What did you say?!" she yelled back.

"I said, what's the name of that man who was pardoned today?!"

"Oh!" said Mrs. Wright. "You're talking about Sirius Black!"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review! TBC...


End file.
